


Are you paying attention?

by Havokftw



Series: A penny for your thoughts. Five bucks if they're dirty. [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Jicheol, M/M, Masturbation, Porn Watching, Underwear Kink, Vibrators, Voyeurism, camboy Lee Jihoon, thigh highs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 07:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12427878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havokftw/pseuds/Havokftw
Summary: Seungcheol's job requires him to spend four days a week in Busan, running his companies new base of operations there. He's not particularly thrilled with the move, but soon finds way to occupy his time.Witten for JICHEOL DAY! Sorry it's late :(





	Are you paying attention?

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Links to pics inside you should probably not open in public.

“There’s nothing to do here.” Seungcheol sulks, staring out the office window.

It's raining again, a steady rhythmic patter of drops; too heavy to be a drizzle, too light to be shower—but annoying enough that he’ll not want to venture out this evening.

Mingyu gives him a concerned look, all creased eyebrows and downturned lips. “There’s a beach.”

Seungcheol swivels his chair around and makes a face at him. “I know that Mingyu. But it’s raining and— _November_.”

“I hear the shopping is pretty good.” Mingyu offers with a shrug.

“That’s good to know. Because we don’t _have_ shopping in Daegu. It’s just a barren wasteland back there. No giant shopping malls around every corner.” Seungcheol offers dryly.

Mingyu sighs heavily. “This is a good move for the company. You said it yourself—expanding to Busan makes sense.”

“Yeah, but when I suggested it—I didn’t volunteer _myself_. I thought some other poor sucker would get landed with this move.”

Mingyu is frowning at him now. Something weirdly like confused irritation. “Wait a second—you suggested me!”

Seungcheol carefully doesn’t respond to that. “I’m just saying, if we’re going to be located here four days a week—I want to know there’s entertainment. Work hard—play hard, _yanno_? I need to unwind after a long day.”

Mingyu takes a pen from behind his ear, uncaps it and scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“I know just what you need.” He says, giving Seungcheol a knowing smirk as he slides the scrap of paper across the desk with his finger.

Seungcheol eyeballs the paper. “If that’s got your number on it—I’m going to punch you in the face.”

“It’s not my number—you _have_ my number. Why would I— _you know what—_ never mind. Be bored and miserable.” Mingyu huffs, trying to take the paper back.

Seungcheol holds it out of reach. “What is it then?”

Mingyu looks at him, it's a patient look, though there's an edge of long-sufferance to it. Like he's aware he's about to be mocked and is determined to rise above it.

“It’s a website I think you should check out. I think you’d like it.” He caps his pen, chewing on the lid a little as Seungcheol looks at the URL written in clean block letters.

**BUSAN-WET-DREAM**

Seungcheol quirks a brow. What exactly does Mingyu think he's into?

It’s not that Seungcheol’s a prude by any sense of the word, but the idea of sweet Mingyu recommending filth for him is a bit discordant in his mind. He glances at the link again and his eyes snap up to meet Mingyu’s.

" _Busan-wet dream?_ Is this some sort of joke?"

Mingyu looks ready to launch into some sort of offended speech about the health benefits of 'personal time' which is usually code for 'masturbation', but there must be something on Seungcheol’s face, something that makes him smile.

“Trust me.” He says, tonguing the pen cap for split second before tucking it loosely behind his ear. "You won't be disappointed," he adds, then shoves away from the desk, leaving to return to his paperwork.

Seungcheol pockets the slip of paper.  _Pervert,_  he thinks as he watches Mingyu chew his bottom lip while he works, trying to pretend he isn’t sporting a boner under his desk.

Whatever is on this site has him presently hot and bothered.

Maybe Seungcheol should check it out. For science.

* * *

 

It’s nearly ten pm when Seungcheol finally makes it to his hotel room. The firms new business partners had kept him on his toes with dinner and negotiations and laying out the groundwork for a venture that sounded like it could shape up to be a very interesting opportunity.

Minus the four days a week in Busan part, anyway.

The weather is still pretty miserable out and Seungcheol is too exhausted from an evening of pleasantries and social manoeuvring to hit the hotel bar, but he needs to unwind.

Remembering Mingyu’s suggestion, Seungcheol opens the laptop at his hotel room desk. The chair is uncomfortable, tips back too far, and is upholstered with a scratchy wool that makes him itch, even through his trousers. He thinks about pulling the laptop onto the bed and stretching out, but decides against having to twist sideways to view the screen, or do something embarrassing like prop the damn thing on his chest. The chair will have to do.

He settles down and slips the note from his pocket, ticking the written sequence of letters into the navigation box of his browser. A grid of photographs pop up, beautiful guys in various states of undress with ridiculous names like  _12inchSehun_  and  _BusanTwink4u._  

Seungcheol doesn't have to even scroll to find something that takes his interest.

[Busan-kitten](http://yammybaby.tumblr.com/post/160200192061/pway-wiff-meeeee)

Top row, three pictures in, is a close-up of milky thighs and trim hips clad in a large baby pink sweater and black knee-high socks. The sweater is hiked up to reveal a small pair of shorts and peeking over the top of the waist is a strip of white lacy material.

Seungcheol clicks on the user  ** _busan_kitten_** , ignoring all the other guys, though a few of them look closer to his age.

Busan-kitten's profile has a variety of other photos, with some clearer shots of the model who seems to have the perfect set of legs for thigh highs. [Profile photo 1](http://maple-maya.tumblr.com/post/149564854994/some-old-pic-i-found) [Profile photo 2](http://ninfes.com/post/130967986224) [Profile photo 3](http://kinkyseventeen.tumblr.com/post/154545205833) [Profile photo 4](http://bedpet.tumblr.com/post/14497339283) [Profile photo 5](http://bedpet.tumblr.com/post/14041801982) [Profile photo 6](http://bedpet.tumblr.com/post/13702626875) [Profile photo 7](http://bedpet.tumblr.com/post/13701913456) [Profile photo 8](http://bedpet.tumblr.com/post/14103142336)

Seungcheol’s intrigued by the image of squishy thighs and flat pale stomach on his screen. And the user seems to have the most profile views on the site anyway, so—definitely a good place to start.

It takes a few seconds for the chat room to load.

He's given an anonymous ID,  _anon171717,_ which hardly does him justice –if he’s being honest—so he changes it to something more fitting.

**Footlong subway.**

Yeah. That’s more like it.

He re-enters the chat screen and reads the scrawl of text filling the page before the video is done loading.

 **anon238790:**   _Fuck-your so sexy. Wanna rip those socks of and choke you with dem._

 **DOUBLEDECKERDICK:**   _I will fucking spanking your ass red you little whore._

 **FUKUDRY:**   _yeah bb bend dat ass over._

 **NiceGuyWonu:**   _Hey guys, please b nice or he’ll never show._

 **SMOLBUTTHICK:**   _Gonna make you eat urr pretty little asshole after I cum in it_

 **anon459907:**   _cmon take it off BB! All the other boys show for free!_

 **JUNHUIISGAY:** _show us ur pretty hole bb._

Holy shit, these guys are _psychos_.

The video _finally_ loads and Seungcheol is greeted by the sight of the same trim hips in the picture from the main page. The boy is wearing different coloured knee high socks this time; pink and white stripes that stretch all the way up his slim legs, frilled with white lace along the top — complete with pink bow.

He’s so close to the screen his legs take up nearly the whole frame, but Seungcheol can see the hem of an oversized pink sweater and tiny denim shorts underneath it. When a hand comes into view, stroking delicately down the open zip of the shorts to grab loosely at the what’s hidden beneath, the room explodes on a fury of lewd text.

The hand leaves the screen to the soft sound of typing. Seungcheol notices the music in the background.  _Kind of morbid,_  he thinks as Marylin Manson’s husky voice croons out the chorus to ‘Tainted Love’. But he’s distracted from that thought when the boy stops typing and starts to sway his hips back and forth to the beat. He traces his pretty fingers along the zipper again, only this time he dips inside the pants to stroke himself.

The movement reveals pink lace and satin behind the zipper and Seungcheol ignores the onslaught of comments and focuses on the way the boy’s wrist moves, delicate bones underneath pale skin as his fingers flex over lace.

The music fades into Damien Rice’s—'Cheers Darlin’ and the model backs away from the keyboard, revealing more of his squishy marshmallow thighs and pert little bum.

He turns with a smooth spin of heels, supple, easy, and sensuous. Grabbing the waistline of his short, the boy shimmies, lowering the waistband inch by inch until a tease of the firm curve of his ass is revealed.

Seungcheol had thought it would take him a while, that he'd have to work to get himself hard. But he is halfway there before the boy’s shorts make it over his hips. The shorts slide down his legs and Seungcheol has a split second to glimpse the pale pink underwear complimenting his milky white skin, before the sweater falls over them

The music changes over again, this time to Tame Impala’s—'The less I know the better’. 

 _Good taste,_  Seungcheol thinks, and is pleased enough to make a comment. Before, he would have said nothing, being a sheep in the flock was not his thing, especially in a room full of horny degenerates with big mouths and quick fingers. He doesn't even know if the boy reads or pays attention to the chat. The boy has, so far, ignored all of the threatening and depraved comments left in his stream.

 **Footlong-subway:** [ I love this song. You have a great taste in music.]

The boy smiles. "Thank you, foot-long subway, nobody ever says that."

Seungcheol is completely caught off guard. The rich timber of the voice is shivery, and sends a jolt straight to his cock. There is no hint of seduction in it yet, too early in the show, it seems. But there’s a definite playfulness that has Seungcheol sitting up and paying attention.

The boy strokes a hand down his thigh to toy with the ribbon circling the seam of his stocking, the silk of it brushing across his fingertips making beautiful imagery.

Seungcheol's hand circles over his own thigh toying at the crease of his hip. He types one handed, continuing his light touch along his own body.

 **Footlong-subway:** [ You have really pretty hands.]

 **Footlong-subway:** [ And…I just realised that makes me sound like a serial killer. I’m not thought. Just FYI.]

The soft ping of his message on screen makes the boy pause from caressing his body.

He leans closer to read the message and laughs. “No, you don’t sound like a serial killer. A creepy hand festishizing pervert— _maybe_.”

Seungcheol grins.

 **Footlong-subway:** [ Guess I am. Sorry. But they are pretty. They’re like pianists’ hands.]

The boy quirks his head. “Thanks. I—uhm— _do_ play the piano actually.”

Seungcheol types, pleased the light banter seems to be keeping the boy’s attention.

 **Footlong-subway:** [ What am I supposed to call you? Do you have preferred pet names? BB seems to be popular, but I was under the impression that was a face cream….. Can I call you kitten?]

“Kitten is good, but you can call me Woozi if you like.” _Woozi_ says, and he seems to be ignoring everyone else in the room, which is resulting in a barrage of whiny and angry text.

 **anon360081:**   _Stop flirting and show us ur sweet ass._

 **anon466287:**   _U little slut. Stop talkin and strip._

The smile drops off the boy’s face. He doesn’t respond directly this time, he just moves to the keyboard and types a command, then a line of bold text graces the screen.

**Anonymous users have been silenced by the model. Log in or sign up to access the feed.**

Seungcheol smirks, triumphant in his ability to get to the top of the class by not being a complete jerk.

His smirk drops quickly when Woozi turns his camera towards a bed. He comes back into frame, ass thrust towards the audience as he tugs the hem of his sweater up to reveal the enticing curve of his ass.

 **99CENTDICKS:** _what toy r u using 2nite?_

Woozi pouts, “ _Patience_ , you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Seungcheol is irrationally jealous that Woozi has responded to someone else. It's absurd, he knows, in the public chat room of all places. But for a brief moment, he had held the boy’s full attention. He desperately wants it back.

Woozi tugs the sweater up higher, turns slowly to offer a close-up flash of his cock straining against the thin material of his underwear. “I bought a new vibrator to play with.” Woozi purrs.  

Seungcheol’s breath hitches. His own cock is every bit as hard as Woozi's and throbs for attention as he sits and stares at this boy offering a promise of more.

One hand drifts, lower, towards his fly, and Seungcheol feels a dreamlike disconnect as he snaps the button open and fumbles the zipper. Gets his hand inside to stroke himself gently, softly toying, before moving up to wrap his hand around his cock. He wishes he had remembered to bring lotion from the bathroom.

“But I think it’s too big for me. I wonder who’s going to convince me to use it?” Woozi asks, low and throaty and sultry.

The question is a game, in its way. A flirtatious tease.

Some people are obviously too fucking thick to appreciate it though.

 **FUKUDRY:**   _Hurry up twink!_

Seungcheol frowns. He has to stop jerking himself to capitalize his typing.

 **Footlong-subway:** [ SHUT THE FUCK UP]

Woozi’s laughter is a light, easy sound as he turns his back and wanders away swinging his hips. He goes to kneel on the bed, stretching so that his ass is still perfectly displayed as he twists towards the camera. The movement is practiced, bashful, and utter perfection. Of his face, only the boy’s lips are visible in the screen and Seungcheol picks up the pace again, jerking himself to the thought of their perfect shape wrapped around his own cock.

Seungcheol wishes more than ever that he could see more than the hint of loose blonde hair curled around his neck and ears, more than just his beautiful mouth. He wants to see  _Woozi_ , all of  _Woozi_. But how to do that? Does the model ever show his face in these sessions?

 **Footlong-subway:** [ Do you ever show your face Kitten?]

Seungcheol is rewarded with a wry smirk from the barely visible mouth in frame. "And risk pervy old men recognising me in the street? _No thanks_.”

Seungcheol grins to himself. He has to admit, he likes the attitude.

 **JUNHUIISGAY:**   _HEY! PAY ATTENTION TO US TOO BITCH!_

The stream fills with indignant pleas for attention and agreements to the statement.

"Junhus-is-gay I blocked your account once and I can do it again." Woozi snaps.

The chat falls into silence. Then:

 **DOUBLEDECKERDICK:** _Pls take off ur clothes. Dying here._

Woozi doesn't respond. Instead he sighs and slowly crosses his arms gripping the hem of the sweater. He slips it over the top of his head with practiced ease and _finally_ , Seungcheol is able to see underneath.

Woozi’s chest is a beautiful stretch of smooth, pale lines and angles, unexpected curves of muscle, rosy nipples and a slim, taut stomach. The line of his throat seems to go on forever.

The panties end up being a pink satin thong, with white lace trim to match the thigh highs. Seungcheol smiles at the level of planning and coordination in tonight's outfit.

Completing that task, he settles back down and rubs his hand flat across his stomach, stretching his fingers to dip just below the waistline of his panties. Seungcheol’s eyes can’t decide whether to settle on the curve of Woozi’s ass or the clear outline of his cock.

The boy’s cock strains against the material, too large to fit within the tiny amount of fabric when fully erect and Seungcheol wonders if it’s pink and pretty like the rest of him.

"Who's going to make me come tonight?" Woozi asks, voice but a whisper, as he slinks his hand down lower, fingers disappearing completely beneath the fabric. His lips part just slightly, moaning as he presses his palm down.

The room answers in unison:  _me, I will, you're mine._

Woozi grins and darts his tongue out, just a flash of pink raking over his lips before it retreats. Seungcheol doesn’t take his eyes off the boy as he spreads his thighs farther, thrusting haltingly into his palm and releasing a soft but excruciatingly obscene moan.

Seungcheol finds that he’s mimicking the gesture, hand wrapped around the base of his dick, his shaft resting against the inside of his wrist

Woozi hums a hot, approving sound. “ _Hnnn_ —I’ve been such a good boy today. I deserve to be played with. Who wants to give me what I deserve?”

Seungcheol tips his head back and groans. He wants to give him everything he deserves and more. 

And then it hits him—the free session will only last so long.

The private chat box has lit up and when the video cuts, whoever pays the required sum first can whisk Woozi off into a private chat and keep him away from Seungcheol in his time of need. Finding the thought completely distasteful, Seungcheol reluctantly navigates away from the video, clicking on his account to add credits.

If _anybody_ is going to occupy this boy for the night, it’s going to be Seungcheol.

When he returns to the chat room he finds that Woozi is standing beside the screen again. He turns, revealing the pert globes of his ass, and strokes a hand up a butt cheek, patting it slightly. Seungcheol has to squeeze the base of his cock with force when the boy bends completely over, then straightens back up, with a box in hand.

“I can’t wait anymore. Help me decide which toy I should use.” he says, playfully.

Drawing out the first toy, a string of anal beads, the boy grins wickedly. He brings the first silicone bead up to his lips and traces the tip of his tongue over it.

Seungcheol's lips part instantly, jaw dropping on a breathy pant. He means to initiate the private chat, but he’s already distracted by the way Woozi's lips close around the anal bead, tongue working between them as his cheeks hollow and he slicks the silicone with saliva.

Seungcheol wishes so much that he could see his whole face, see the game in the boy’s eyes. He looks so pretty, but it’s hard to form the complete image without seeing the top half of his face.

Woozi pulls the bead out from between his lips with a wet pop. He moves back to the box and pulls out a few more toys. There’s a large, black dildo, a silicone plug, and an impressively large, ribbed vibrator. The room demands the vibrator nearly unanimously. Seungcheol couldn't care less-he'd be happy watching Woozi make a sandwich at this stage.

“Vibrator it is,” Woozi confirms, dropping the other toys back into their box and wrapping his pretty lips over the head of the vibrator, moaning and sucking slowly.

He climbs onto the bed and scoots back. Leaning on his elbows, the sensual dip of his collarbones hollow with shadow as the angle of light changes. He turns the vibrator on to a low setting and teases the bud of his nipple with the tip. Then he runs the toy down his stomach until it reaches the hollow of his hip.

Snagging the band of the thong with the vibrator, the boy plunges the toy into the underwear seemingly thrusting it over his perineum, but the panties obstruct the view. He withdraws the vibrator slowly and sets it down onto the bed between his open legs.

“Can’t wait to have this inside me.” Woozi pants.

Seungcheol has had enough of this teasing. He wants Woozi to himself. He wants the boy displayed, open and shameless, thrusting the toy inside himself as Seungcheol watches. Seungcheol clicks the private chat button, stealing Woozi away from the rest of the room.

 

* * *

 

It takes a moment for the private chat screen to load, and an ‘activate microphone’ pop up pings on the corner of the screen. Seungcheol scrambles to grab his headset from his laptop bag, and manages to plug it in _just_ as the video loads.

“Hi.” Woozi greets. “Not gonna lie, I’m kind of glad it was you.”

He’s zoomed the camera in so his torso and lower part of his face fill the majority of the screen, but Seungcheol can make out a flash of a bedroom wall behind him, covered with a variety of music posters.

Seungcheol clenches his fists.

He hopes to fucking God it’s a college dorm room, and not some teenagers high school bedroom.

“Please tell me you’re of legal age.” Seungcheol says without meaning to. He's pretty sure he can't afford to hear the answer. Bad enough that he's let things go this far—that he actually  _wants_  this.

He doesn’t miss how Woozi tenses at the question.

“Of course, I am!” Woozi chokes. “Jesus Christ. I need to submit ID and proof of age to get a place on this site.”

Seungcheol flinches at the sharpness of his tone. “Sorry, it’s just—the idol posters and the whole teen bedroom vibe you’ve got going there. I kinda panicked.” he says with an edge of rough guilt.

“They’re my room mates, okay. And it’s a college dorm room—I can’t do much about the aesthetic.” Woozi huffs.

Seungcheol exhales, slow and quiet and relieved. That's one worst case scenario avoided, at least.

His throat works through a thick swallow. “College dorm huh? Uhh—Is your room-mate there?” He asks, trying to sound as earnest as possible without tipping Woozi’s so far patient expression into a full-blown frown.

Woozi crosses his arms over his chest, a defensive gesture. He is also, Seungcheol notes, frowning _anyway_.

“Yeah, he’s the one holding the camera. He’s my pimp _actually_.” Woozi snaps.

“W-what!?” Seungcheol chokes.

“I’m kidding!” Woozi says, face softening at the effect his words are obviously having on Seungcheol.

“Oh my God—c _hill_. He’s got a class. I schedule these sessions for when I know he’ll be out. I’ve never been disturbed so— _relax_.” Woozi laughs and then he’s sliding out of sight, the room jerking as he resettles the laptop and then resettles himself in the centre of their bed, and this time…

This time, Seungcheol can see _all_ of him.

He’s not sure what takes his breath away more, those dark eyes, the soft sweep of lashes, or the devilish smirk on his face. And that’s it, really, this is Woozi to the last—finally showing his face, but Seungcheol feels like an ocean away, staring like a simpleton and too far away to touch.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He doesn’t mean to sound as astounded as he does, but Woozi can fucking well deal with it.

Woozi smiles like a cherub, dimples coming into view and—damn— _dimples_?

Okay—he said he was of legal age, but Seungcheol’s close to thirty and anybody under twenty five makes him feel downright old so he can’t help but ask, “How—old are you?”

Woozi tilts his head. His expression is curious and amused like he finds Seungcheol entertaining. “I’m nineteen. Shit— _dude_. Most guys don’t _care_ how old I am. They just want me to start touching myself right away. What’s your deal?”

Seungcheol holds his hands up defensively, before he realises Woozi can’t see him. “I was just asking— _conversationally_. And those guys were clearly just obsessive perverts.”

Woozi snorts.

For a moment, he leans off-screen. “Oh, and you’re not?” He pauses and leans a little further to check something on the bedside table, giving Seungcheol a lovely HD view of the smooth stretch of skin over his ribs. “ _Footlong-subway?”_

Seungcheol grins, too far into arousal to care about the slice of shame. “Hey—that name was automatically allocated to me when I set up the account. It’s not my fault it happens to be really accurate too.”

Woozi giggles, shoulders losing their tension tangibly. He focuses his gaze directly on the camera as his hands beginning to wander, teasing across his skin.

Seungcheol feels a shift in the space them, a change in energy as the tension in his own body switches to something more pleasant—anticipation and heat. Woozi just gave him the all-clear. His eyes are dark and glazed, his skin is still flushed here and there and they’re both still painfully hard and for a moment Seungcheol is simply overwhelmed by the realization that he can actually have what he wants.

Seungcheol starts to jerk himself languidly, stroking himself in long smooth arcs as Woozi starts smoothing a hand over his neck and chest.

“I’m amazed at how patient you were in the group chat. Some of the things those guys said to you—were kinda unsettling.” He mumbles, face collapsing into a frown despite himself.

“You get used to it.” Woozi’s voice is gravelly and slightly amused.

Seungcheol grits his teeth, unsettled that anybody could get used to that. How long has Woozi been doing this for, he wonders.

“I guess you don’t do this often, cause that’s pretty standard chat room behaviour. Those guys were pretty tame actually. I’ve had a lot worse.” Woozi murmurs, after a long spell of silence.

Seungcheol thinks he’s just trying to re-assure him. He shakes his head to clear it and coughs.  

“How long have you been—uhm—doing this for?”

Woozi hums, tweaking his nipple between his thumb and forefinger, teasing it until it’s pink and pebbled. “Five, six months.”

Seungcheol’s pace has been picking up unconsciously. He finds he’s close, and backs off, wanting to savour the slow build, wanting it to last. He has all night to enjoy this, so long as Woozi does as well. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah—sure.” Woozi shrugs. “It’s temporary.”

Seungcheol resists the urge to say, ' _good_ ,' and instead echoes, “Temporary?”

“A friend suggested it to help pay for my student loans.”

Seungcheol’s hand stills at the base of his cock where he’d been working up a nice, teasing stroke. “Have you ever thought of getting a—sugar daddy? Or—whatever it is they call it now.”

 _Woozi_  smiles as he strokes himself and cocks his head to the side. "Once or twice," he says. A pause, then, “Why? Are you _offering_?”

Seungcheol’s heart kick-starts into gear. He loosens his hold on his shaft and circles his fingers lightly around the head, thumbing the tip. “Absolutely.”

Woozi lifts a brow at his avid response. “Don’t be so sure.” His voice hushes to a barely-there murmur. “I’m very demanding, very high maintenance.”

“And you should be. You deserve to be.” Seungcheol says simply, because it’s the truth.

It could be the angle of the screen, but if Seungcheol’s not mistaken—there’s a blush gracing the boy’s cheeks.

Woozi chews at the wet length of his lower lip. “Your accent’s— _different_. You’re not from around here…” His voice peters out, and now Seungcheol is paying extra close attention to the way his hand presses ever so subtly against the lace between his legs.

He’s so mesmerized by the sight, he realises his hand has stilled over his cock, like he’s forgotten what in the world he’s supposed to be doing with it.

“I’m from Daegu.” He offers, resuming his stroking.

“Figures.” Woozi replies without a beat.

Seungcheol barks out a surprise burst of laughter. “Excuse me?”

“That there’s not enough great ass in Daegu—you’ve gotta prowl Busan porn sites for fun. I feel sorry for you.” He says, voice low but still a little teasing around the edges.

Seungcheol huffs into the microphone. “Hey. Shut up. There is plenty of ass in Daegu. Daegu is full of asses.”

The edge of Woozi’s mouth twitches upwards, quirking into a pointed half-smile. “No argument here.”

Seungcheol manages to hold back another bark of laughter, but he feels his dimples treacherously take shape. “Very funny. Yanno, you’re right—I don’t do this kinda thing often—or _ever,_ actually. But, aren’t you meant to be sweet and charming?”

“You could just exit the private chat if you don’t like what you see.” Woozi says simply, with no trace of the irritation Seungcheol was expecting.

“I like what I see just fine. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen since I got here.” Seungcheol says, letting his voice drop a little lower.

Woozi pinkens gradually, as if he’s willing his blood vessels not to give in, then smiles. “So, are you in Busan at the moment?”

“Yeah, I’m here on business.”

“A business man then?” Woozi purrs, and Seungcheol swallows thickly as he watches the boy knead his cock through the satin more purposefully.  

“Yeah, I’ve been relocated here for four days a week—for god knows how long.”

Woozi’s hand stills and he heaves a disconcertingly adolescent sigh and levels him a direct look through the camera. “You make it sound like the _worst_ thing in the _world_.”

“Isn’t it?” Seungcheol interrupts, taking his hand out of his pants at this sudden twist in topic, “You’re obviously a local. Aren’t you bored to death?”

“Fuck no, Busan’s awesome.” Woozi guffaws. “There’s lots to do—you just need to give it a chance. We’ve got more going for us than Daegu anyway. All you guys have are— _mountains_.”

Seungcheol can’t help but frown a little at that. “Bullshit. You’ve clearly never been.”

Woozi’s smile is undaunted. “I don’t have to. I’ve met people from there—they’re much happier here. _We have a beach_.”

Seungcheol snorts. “So what? It’s not like Busan is Miami or something. You get to enjoy a beach a couple of months in the year at most. What do you do with the rest of the nine or so months in the year? Stare at the beach longingly?”

Woozi contrary to expectation, doesn’t argue the point further. Seungcheol can all but see him shifting mental gears. “Aww, somebodies homesick.” He coos with a moue.

“Hmm—maybe I am.” Seungcheol mopes, turning his head to look out the window. "Guess I'll get over it eventually."

“Isn’t Daegu like—the suicide capital—of Korea? I’m—ahh—pretty—sure—ahh—I read that some--were.” Woozi says. Seungcheol’s cock twitches painfully at the low register of Woozi’s voice, the catch of breath he can hear on the other end of the line. He sounds strained in a way no man ever should when discussing suicide.

Seungcheol looks up.

Woozi’s biting his lip, and his cheeks are a delicate pink.

He’s on his knees, braced with one hand on the mattress behind himself, and the other…Woozi isn’t touching his cock anymore.

His nipples have tightened into hard peaks and there is something about the angle of his right shoulder, something about the bend of his elbow that Seungcheol knows very well even if he can’t see it for himself.

He blinks. Everything fits, but it just doesn’t make any sense for Woozi to be rubbing one out while giving Seungcheol a passive-aggressive piece of his mind.

“Are you—fingering yourself?” He tries to sound at least slightly irate, but the awe creeps through clear as day. 

“Yeah.” Woozi breathes. He bites his lip as his eyes flutter closed for a brief second. “I like your accent. Daegu sucks, but—damn—Daegu guys have the sexiest accents. Got my dick so wet.”

“Yeah?” Seungcheol’s voice is hardly more than a breath itself. He skims his hand over his cock, now painfully hard and wanting, and rasps, “Fuck. Show me.”

Woozi eases the front of the panties down with a sharp inhale and the soft rasp of silk to expose the pink head of his cock, just enough to rub a fingertip in a circle around the slit, slow and teasing.

Seungcheol licks his lips. “All the way off—now.” He tells him. Though there's more than a little command there. Maybe a lot of it.

Woozi doesn’t seem to mind.

“Greedy.” He tuts, but obliges him, sliding the underwear down his legs and throwing them off to the side. He moves even further back on the bed—then turns, giving Seungcheol a world-class view of his ass and then some. The barest glimpse of his puckered hole makes Seungcheol’s mouth run dry and he speeds his strokes.

Settling on his hands and knees Woozi stretches his legs open, ass cheeks spreading just slightly. There is a glisten of wetness there, against the pink of his hole, where he'd been playing with himself as they spoke.

Seungcheol catches his lower lip between his teeth and stifles a moan. “God, you’re a piece of work,” He murmurs, half proprietary and half accusatory. “Such a fucking piece of work. Touching yourself while I wasn’t paying attention. Naughty boy.”

Woozi gives him a wry look over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry—I couldn’t help it. I was getting excited. But, maybe I can make it up to you?”

His voice is low, barely a whisper as he plays with the lacy edge of his thigh high. He’s got Seungcheol’s undivided attention and he knows it.

Seungcheol’s cock throbs, leaking precome over his fingers. “Just—touch yourself. Anything. I want you to come.”

Woozi smiles sweetly. “I can do that,” he says. He reaches for lube he’s set off screen, squirting a small amount into his palm he takes his cock in hand and gives it a pull.

After a second he continues stroking himself, allowing it spread in a fine coat of slick over the entirety of his shaft. Pulling back his foreskin, Woozi works his fingers over the head of his cock, sensitive and leaking from stimulation.

It takes some effort for Seungcheol to continue stroking himself as he watches, his other hand, tucked down underneath, to tug and roll the weight of his balls every time the ache in his belly stabs deep. The sight on the screen is far more demanding of his undivided attention and he has to lean forward to see everything, which is at odds with his desire to lean back and jerk away.

Onscreen, Woozi’s expression is so blissed. His eyes have fluttered shut, but his mouth is ever so slightly open, the relaxed line of it soft and full.

Seungcheol can almost _feel_ his pleasure. He can see the tense and relax of Woozi's thighs, the twitch of his stomach muscles. The way the head of his cock slips out and in between his curled fingers. leaving the curl of his thumb wet where it slips across the head, over and over, on every slide. Quick and indulgent and Seungcheol watches that too, fascinated.

“Fuck—you’re so hot. You’ve got gorgeous thighs kitten, they look so soft. I wanna—”

Onscreen, Woozi lets out a whimper. He tips his head back, exposing the long line if his throat. “What? You wanna what?”

Suddenly Seungcheol is stricken by what he can’t have, which makes him desperate for what he can. His grip tightens just enough to stave off his orgasm again.

“I wanna watch you fuck yourself with that toy Kitten.”

Woozi looks at him through his lashes, legs splayed wide and one hand still rhythmically slicking his cock. “Where do you want me?”

“Now that’s a loaded question. In my lap, across my bed, bent over my desk. Do I have options?”

Woozi’s head lags forward, hair in his eyes, fist tight around the head of his prick.  “Cute. Seriously though, it’s your time we’re wasting.”

“On your knees, with your back to the camera. I want to see your beautiful ass when you fuck yourself.” says Seungcheol and it’s more of command, voice roughened with arousal.

“Yes, sir.”

Woozi kneels on the bed, naked, lithe and pale. He swivels gracefully and pushes his ass towards the camera. Seungcheol has a perfect view of everything: the dimples of his lower back just before he bends over, the slope of his flank, the pull of his muscles underneath his milky skin.

His ass is perfectly smooth, leaving his skin glistening as he pours lube between his cheeks. The slick drips down the cleft of his ass and he uses a finger to catch it near his balls and push it back up and inside as he slips the finger into his tight hole. His mouth drops open a little as he gasps at the feel of his own finger breaching his rim.

“Oh—fuck.”

Woozi is looking over his shoulder towards the camera. Seungcheol wants to be there, wants to see the fucked out look he knows must be the boy’s eyes, see the droop of them as he struggles to keep them open against the pleasure of being worked open.

Woozi adds another finger, humming in approval. Seungcheol can’t help but speed the pace of his own hand on his cock. It’s a beautiful sight. After three fingers Woozi picks up the vibrator and flicks its switch with his thumb.

The toy buzzes quietly, set on a low level. Woozi drags it lightly over his balls and across his perineum, coating it with the lube that is still dripping down. He presses the tip at his entrance, teasing the pink bud of his hole. He doesn’t press in, just swirls it around lazily. It’s as if he’s waiting for something.

“ _Please_!” It’s a moan, a plea. It’s the only word Seungcheol’s brain can manage right now.

Woozi doesn’t indulge him. He just keeps rubbing the head of the toy over his hole, breath hitching as he teases himself.

“Please—Woozi. Do it!” Seungcheol practically sobs.

Woozi smirks wickedly. “Admit Busan is better than Daegu.”

Seungcheol doesn’t whimper in frustration. But it’s a near thing. “Daegu’s a fucking shithole! God I hate that place so much. Please baby, fuck yourself for me.”

Woozi laughs at his enthusiasm, a little breathless. He complies by letting the toy sink slowly inside him and groans when his fingers press against his skin when nearly the entire toy is inside. He waits a moment before withdrawing it, pulling it almost completely out, before he slides it back in with a choked moan.

Seungcheol’s hips stutter, his cock twitches in his hand, and he breathes a sharp, quiet, " _Fuck_."

Fucking himself on the toy, Woozi moans with pleasure. Seungcheol can see him shudder every once in a while, where he must hit the head of the vibrator off of his prostate.

Seungcheol is fucking his own hand steadily now, feeling his orgasm build behind his balls. His hips twitch up out of the chair and his breath comes in short huffs. His lip stings and he can taste the tang of blood. He didn’t even realize he’d been biting it. He releases it and lets out a groan.

“Oh fuck—yes. Do you like this? Is this what you wanted? My tiny hole stuffed full?” Woozi asks, spreading himself wide to show Seungcheol each drive of the vibrator.

“Shit—yes.” Seungcheol gasps, spreading his thighs wider, shuddering out a breath and turning every steady pull into a quicker, harder stroke.

“Are you picturing me on my knees in front of you—opening myself up for your dick? Begging for it.” Woozi groans.

He’s shaking, shuddering with the effort of twisting the toy inside himself while his erection bobs wetly between his legs with every slide in. “I bet you’ve got big, thick fingers— _ahhh_ —want them inside me, stretching me wide. _Ahh_ — _hnn_ —you'd open me up slow first, wouldn't you? You'd be so fucking careful."

Seungcheol grunts out a ‘Yes’, fist moving in a blur over his prick.

"Would you—" Gasp, shudder, swallowed moan. "Stay gentle—even if I begged for more?"

“I’d give you whatever you want.” Seungcheol answers through a shaky exhale.

He can so easily imagine doing everything Woozi says, and it’s so frustrating that he can’t just throw himself at the boy. Pull him to the bed and have his way with him.

“Good— _ahhh_ —cause I want your cock so bad— _hnnn_ —want you to split me wide and fuck me till I can’t walk. I love it hard, want to feel so sore after you're finished with me.”

Woozi is fucking himself faster and whimpering into the depth of the room. He’s not even bothering to look back at the camera anymore, completely lost in fucking himself on his toy. Seungcheol watches Woozi pistoning it in, every rough breath sounds pained, but ends on a helpless noise of pleasure.

Seungcheol hears a strangled, frustrated moan.

“Fuck … I need more, I want your cock.”  _Woozi_  gasps then he shifts to sit back on his heels. Placing the toy on the bed, the dip in the covers holding it in place, he lowers himself onto it and starts to bounce up and down on the toy.  “Oh, fuck! Yes.” He circles his hips around, grinding the vibrator in his ass, before bouncing on it again.

It’s mesmerizing, watching  _Woozi_  fuck himself on that toy, and Seungcheol becomes lost in the roll of his hips, the flex of his hamstrings and the wet slap of Woozi’s cock bobbing against his stomach.

Woozi delicately pinches one of his nipples and hisses when his erection arches against his belly. “God—yess. So good. Please, don’t just sit there—talk to me.” He begs.

Seungcheol does both. He starts murmuring filthy things into the headset as he quickens the pace of his hand on his dick, burying himself all the deeper in imagined sensations. He’s grinning a predatory grin and promising to fuck Woozi so hard he won't walk right for a week, calling Woozi filthy, calling him desperate, calling him beautiful and greedy.

He watches the flush of Woozi’s skin and the gleam of wetness between his legs as he spears himself on they toy, teases and praises him every step of the way as the boy cries and begs and whimpers for his cock, making Seungcheol want to pin him down and lick every last inch of him.

“Ahh— yeah! I’m so full! Feels so good daddy!” Woozi whimpers.

Seungcheol's rhythm falters, stops briefly, breath loud and rough in the chill of the hotel room.

 _Daddy? Really?—_ Okay, that’s pretty fucking hot.

" _Good boy_ ," Seungcheol breathes, and strokes faster, pictures Woozi under him. Pinning him. Thrusting his dick into him without giving Woozi's body a chance to adjust, all animal ferocity and strength. Taking him without gentleness or caution, just the way Woozi wants. The way Woozi needs.

It kills him, absolutely kills him, that he can’t actually follow through with any of his filthy utterings, almost as much as it kills him knowing that Woozi sat there bickering with him when he was slick and ready to be fucked the entire time.

Seungcheol groans, fist working quick and greedy. A rough, too-dry pull that he meets with his hips. It's ragged and desperate and close. So close.

Time stands still and Seungcheol’s world becomes a tunnel, solely focused on the boy bouncing on the bed on screen. He’s absorbed in the moment, in Woozi’s pleasure, in his own, so it’s a surprise when his climax finally hits. He grunts a hoarse obscenity as he spills across his own fingers, the warm, messy slide of it leaving him shaking and loose.

Coaxing every last drop of come out of himself, Seungcheol strokes lightly as he watches Woozi finish. Woozi has turned just enough that Seungcheol can see the strained angle of his thigh holding himself off the bed as he drives the vibrator into his hole. 

“Oh fuck! Yes— _ahh_ —daddy! Please! I need— _ahh_ —need to come! Can I come daddy!” The words come out soft and broken, and Seungcheol growls permission, something rough and mangled which barely sounds like words.

Woozi must understand him—or maybe’s he’s so desperate to come, because he wraps slim fingers around his cock, wrist flicking and fingers held loosely as first. Then his grip tightens as he gets closer. Seungcheol can see his stomach flex in and out rapidly as orgasm rips through his body. He sprays short arcs of white over his own hand and onto the bed, mewling like a kitten.

“Fuck.” Seungcheol murmurs, then murmurs, then repeats it, over and over, breathless and wrecked. Watching Woozi exhale messily and work himself through the shivery edges of pleasure. After one final weak pulse of come, Woozi’s shoulders slump forward as every taut muscle in his body relaxes.  

There's sated contentment in the lazy line of Woozi's body. Seungcheol can feel a similar lethargy weighing down his own limbs.

Propping himself on one hand, Woozi slowly pulls the toy out of his ass, and places it on the bed. He stretches momentarily, exposing the lines of his ribs.

Then he splays one hand over his ass, arching his back and spreading himself to show his gaping hole.

It isn’t anything Seungcheol hasn’t seen before. He’s watched his fair share of pornographic films, but he can’t help but wish to be on the other end of the screen right now just to sink his fingers in there.

“You fucking tease,” Seungcheol murmurs fondly. “You gorgeous little tease.”

Jihoon draws two delicate fingertips against his hole, sinking them in to the second knuckle as he presses and curls them inside. “ _Ahhh_ — _yess_.” The groan he utters is beautifully indecent.

With a sated little sigh, Woozi shifts himself to face the camera and licks at the joint of the thumb on his soiled hand. His tongue flicks over every part of skin his come has spilled on, darting between his knuckles and lapping over his palm until he finally sucks each finger into his mouth individually to clean them.

Seungcheol can make out the loose waves of Woozi’s blonde hair, the way his eyes are awash with the serenity of the afterglow, the wine-stained apples of his cheeks.

There's a thrum of contentment settling beneath Seungcheol’s skin and he wants to fit his palms to them, guide their faces together and have Woozi slack and bare and warm against him. _H_ is arms ache to reach through the miles between them and hold that taut, wiry little body.

Woozi pushes back his hair and scoots to the edge of the bed, somehow actually looking coy after the show he’s just put on.

“How was that for you?” He speaks up then, raspy, sounding very much like he’s been fucked soundly and satisfactorily.

“That was awesome. You are a thing of beauty. I wish I could fuck you properly.” Seungcheol says once he’s cleaned his own seed from his hand, though with a towel instead of his mouth like Woozi is doing.

The comment earns him a smile, all warmth and mischief. “Maybe some day you can.”

Seungcheol’s head thumps back against the seat, but he can't close his eyes or tear his gaze away from the way Woozi is looking at the camera. “Fucking tease.” He repeats fondly.  

“Goodnight— _daddy_.” Woozi says, before he turns the camera off and leaves Seungcheol in the lonely silence of his hotel room.

Seungcheol sits there for a long while, running through the events of the last hour in his head.

He honestly doesn't know how much of that was an act and how much of it was genuine.

The boy seemed honestly aroused by his presence on the other end of the camera. He preened and blushed under Seungcheol’s encouragements, like he really wanted Seungcheol there—fucking him.

The alternative, that it's purely an act, that he was essentially  _performing_  for his benefit—Seungcheol's not sure if that's better or worse.

It all feels...too big to think about.

Like even what they did was too much, something he shouldn’t have been allowed to watch, never mind thinking about what else - if they could do anything else - and Seungcheol’s brain tells him that if he goes there he'll lose any ability to think at all.

* * *

 

It’s Thursday afternoon and Seungcheol is standing in line at coffee shop across from his office. He’d escaped the office and Mingyu’s inquisitive questioning for a much-needed caffeine hit, because his sleep schedule has gone right out the window this week.

It’s been the least productive week Seungcheol has ever had.

He’s slept very, very little since his private chat session with Woozi a few night ago.

Sometimes, he just lies in bed and stares at the ceiling, resisting the urge to open his laptop and navigate to the website. Other times he ends up biting into the skin of his knuckles, jealousy warring with anger as he thinks of Woozi getting fucked by nameless, faceless men.

It’s insane because he knows he can’t spend every night in a private chat with the guy to stop it from happening.

Stuff like that can get _addictive_.

Finally—were there really that many people dying for a pumpkin spiced latte?—he reaches the counter.

“What can I get you?”

Seungcheol blinks.

For a second, he can’t even look at the speaker, just replays the words in his head,  _What can I get you_. He shivers, assaulted by a rush of memories invoked by the sweet, hushed voice.

He lifts his head and finally looks at the Barista, then tenses when eyes obsidian-black and familiar lock on his own.

It’s him.

It’s gotta be him—it’s gotta be Woozi—although he looks different and the name on his badge reads ‘ _Jihoon’_.

He seems older with his blonde hair tucked back into a cap, bulkier in a ridiculously salmon-and-brown striped uniform that, upon a half-second of reflection, really should have a tempering effect on Seungcheol’s interest. But as Seungcheol’s eyes wander over the narrow shoulders, slim hips and petal pink lips, he finds himself willing to overlook a regrettable colour choice or two.

There’s something familiar and delicate about the way the boy’s fingers flip the sharpie as he waits for Seungcheol to answer.

A quick glance down kindles Seungcheol’s suspicions. Those are Woozi’s hands, he’s sure of it—though he doubts he could definitively tell by that method of deduction alone.

"Sir? Are you going to place an order?" Jihoon repeats.

That voice is definitely Woozi's. The words, the subtle irritation, Seungcheol feels it in his cock. The same arousal that has led to clandestine trips to the men’s room all week and his tense fingers wrapped around his own prick in frustration. The very voice that mocked him in the same breath as it flirted him.

He smirks to himself, pleased with the confirmation.

 _But is it really confirmation?_ It's possible his ears are hearing what he wants to hear. To be certain, absolutely certain, he would need to see the boy’s ass. Or thighs. Or ask him if he own a pair of pink and white striped thigh highs.

“Can I get flat white please.” Seungcheol finally says.

The boy pouts as he picks up a paper cup, then pauses. “What size would you like?”

“Small. I like small sizes.” Seungcheol says—like he is in some way communicating his preference for this guy's tight little body. He has no idea if the message is coming across—and really—he needs a large coffee to get through the rest of the day.

“Sitting in or--” Jihoon asks. Seungcheol cuts him off anxiously.

“To go—Please.” He says, and slides his card over.

Jihoon swipes the card and hands it back to him.

“Name.”

Seungcheol blinks again. “Huh?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes, “Name— _for your coffee_.” He says slowly, like Seungcheol is an idiot. The attitude is a perfect match for Woozi’s, which has been one of Seungcheol’s favourite attributes.

“Oh—uhm. My name is,” He trails off, flustered and caught without words. It’s difficult to think when he’s talking to the boy that gave him the most erotic moment of his life and has now popped up out of fucking nowhere.

Curiosity gets the best of him and Seungcheol decides to test a theory. He needs some sort of confirmation.

He thinks about it, actually thinks carefully about what he’s about to set in motion. The risks, the threats, the complications.

The _rewards_.

Ultimately, there’s no real decision to be made.

After a quick look behind him, Seungcheol drops his volume, overly conscious of the people around them. “Foot-long subway.”

Jihoon flashes a glance at him through his lashes, less impatient and more dangerous now, more unidentifiable. “What?”

“Footlong subway.” Seungcheol repeats pointedly, keeping his gaze locked on the boy.

Jihoon’s eyes narrow, then he straightens up, serious. His eyes cast down at the cup in his hands,

“O-kay.” Jihoon drawls, rolling his eyes. He does, however, flush a little, but that can’t be anything but a coincidence.

He scrawls something on the paper and sets in on the counter.

“You drink will be ready at the side, sir. _Next_.” Jihoon calls out before Seungcheol can get a word in.

Seungcheol sighs and steps away from the counter to wait for his drink.

Well. That was dumb.

Clearly it wasn’t him—he hardly reacted _at all._

This is awkward. It’s going to be phenomenally _more_ awkward when his coffee order gets called and he has to respond to the name _foot-long subway._

 _Awesome_.

The coffee shop is busy, and Seungcheol has to shuffle past the pick-up counter as the crowd gathers.

From where he’s standing now, he can see Jihoon (sadly-not-Woozi) preparing his drink, and bending over to fetch a new carton of milk from the fridge and— _nice_.

Even if this boy isn’t Woozi, Seungcheol’s brain has no problem with projecting Woozi onto him.

He’d be about the right size as Woozi, small and compact—a perfect fit on his lap. And those eyes are still as dark and flirty as Seungcheol remembers.

That focused pout is the same too, a mouth that has haunted his daydreams and fantasies. He could never forget that mouth. The way it curved into a mischievous grin as he licked cum off his fingers. The way it panted and trembled in pleasure as he stretched himself with the vibrator. The incredibly hot and dirty things it whispered in his ear….

He drags his eyes away from the gorgeous specimen behind the counter, hoping he isn’t caught staring like a pervert. The hope is short lived as he raises his eyes and finds Jihoon staring back at him over his shoulder.

Jihoon’s frothing milk, but his eyes are drawing up Seungcheol’s frame _so_ slowly Seungcheol can feel his gaze like a physical touch.

Seungcheol has to reach up to loosen his tie, aware of the stiffness of his collar—of the inexplicable way his face flushes warm.

When Jihoon’s eyes briefly lock with his, Seungcheol stops midway through adjusting his tie because his brain is suddenly blank, and the familiar ins and outs and pull-throughs of a half-Windsor are suddenly as incomprehensible as string-theory. 

He tries not to stare, but he must fail because suddenly a different look lights Jihoon’s face. There's something brazen and dangerous in his expression, his posture, the slant of his shoulders. Something wicked with intent in his eyes. Seungcheol briefly considers fleeing the coffee shop.

Jihoon quirks an eyebrow at him and turns back to his task, leaving Seungcheol to wonder if his coffee will be poisoned.

He watches as a lid is fastened over the top of his drink and is about to step forward to claim it—when the boy steps out from behind the counter instead.

“There’s your coffee.” Jihoon says, thrusting the cup into his hand.

Seungcheol grips it instinctively, “Oh—thanks. I-“ He stammers.

He doesn’t get a chance to thank Jihoon for not calling out his ridiculous name, because the boy is shouldering past him and pushing open the ‘staff only’ door.

* * *

 

Seungcheol’s out on the side-walk, about to cross the road when he glances down at his cup. In neat black writing scribbled across the side—is not ‘Foot-long subway’—but instead, there’s a cell phone number and something else.

Something that makes the corners of his lips quirk up.

**Woozi. Call me xx**

He thinks he could get used to four days a week in Busan after all.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Okay, so I went a little overboard with the ref pics. But at first I couldn't find any....and then...then I hit a goldmine of pics and was like....I would be important I share this....for science.  
> 2) I had every intention of having this completed for Jicheol day, but it took longer than expected. Happy Jicheol Day Jicheol fam!  
> 3) It is down as part of a series, because I've always wanted to write a camboy fic and sugar daddy fic...so I just rolled them into one.  
> 4) Hope you enjoy reading! Feedback appreciated!


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